Mercy For The Addict
by MochaCocaFan
Summary: I don't want to be the one/ The battles always choose/ 'Cause inside I realize/ That I'm the one confused...--Shisui battles his demons , and lost every time. When Itachi finds out, the ice melts violently...--


Uchiha Shisui, ANBU captain.

Uchiha Shisui, Sharingan extraordinaire.

Uchiha Shisui, Jonin at age fifteen.

Uchiha Shisui, pride of the clan.

Uchiha Shisui, resident genius (until Itachi came and stole the damn title but neither gave a damn about the trophy).

Uchiha Shisui, drug addict and man-whore.

Chakra powder, saké, ecstasy (aptly named: it certainly brought ecstasy), speed, barbs, crack, coke, weed, hero, meth, acid, shroomies (but not toads; Shisui was not _that_ desperate as to lick toads), or even simple, plain cigarettes; it hardly mattered what he got high off, though chakra powder was a favorite, it being the most addictive shit since thallium.

Day after day after day; the second training was over, as were missions (bringing blood and slughter and corpses and death and nightmares with them until he passed out on the bloodstained, sweat-stained, coffee-stained floor, stoned more than Amy Winehouse with bleeding toes), he practically ran, heart thumping in anticipation of his craving finally being satiated, grabbed whatever the hell he needed and got as high as he could, as fast as he could.

Even with his ANBU and Jonin pay, Shisui's apartment was expensive, as were his 'ice babies' and the persistent, obsessive-compulsive showering he had to do to shut up the screaming voices and stop feeling like everybody was out to get him and stop feeling hungry all the time and to just get the damn blood off and the horrible smell of his addiction, he couldn't have anyone finding out, now could he? Sometimes, though he went without food for weeks at a time, he did little favors for rich kids and chuunin mostly- so that he wouldn't have to face them once more. Occasionally, when even prostitution didn't work, he borrowed without intent to return- but always little things, and only when needed. Desperate times, desperate measures.

Uchiha Shisui, the most fucked-up junkie Konoha had ever harboured.

* * *

"ITACHI!"

Uchiha Itachi sighed _most_ unemotionally. He wasn't having what even the most devoted of masochists would call a mildly alright day, and his maternal figure's shrill, howler-monkey-mimicking cries were annoying even to Mother Theresa.

When the woman hollered again, louder and shriller than before, he put down his scroll warning of the dangers of chakra powder. He had just been on the section which talked about addiction. Descending coolly, Itachi walked quietly as a mouse and gracefully as a Siberian tiger ready to pounce.

"Itachi, dear," Mikoto started, seemingly ignorant of the tick the word had put in the fourteen-year-old's eye, "Could you get Shisui? I want him over for dinner."

The very sound of her voice allowed his twitchiness to spread from his left eyes to the left side of his elegant, sharp-featured face and down to the whole left side of his deadly, slender, oddly feminine body- not that the Uchiha would ever admit, even to himself, that he looked more a woman than Yamanaka Tsuyoi, but he did project an appearance of girlishness, with his long, silky raven locks and gently curvaceous skeletal structure which allowed little extra muscle but all the strength he needed.

However, the mention of his favorite cousin relaxed all the subtly tensed posture. Itachi had always loved Shisui more than any other member of his family- Sasuke was too demanding and childish, Mikoto was so mother-hen that he flatly refused to go to her for medical aid, and Shisui was _definitely _superior in every way possible to his bastard of a father whom he wished daily would asphyxiate in his projectile regurgitation while he caught it on videotape and added it to YouTube.

It was time for some cousin-bonding!

* * *

Shisui took a long drag on his joint, inhaling the sickly-sweet scent that reminded him unpleasantly of his personal fan-club as an Uchiha, and a long-haired one at that. God, did those sluts annoy him. They chased after with their greasy hair and too much make-up and frighteningly short pieces of cloth that couldn't even be called micro-mini for lack of wish to offend. After all, plenty of nice girls (like Kurenai-san) wore minis and they didn't worship his spit- far from it. The one time he had made a passing comment about the lack of usefulness in genjutsu Kurenai had whipped around so fast it was a bloody miracle she didn't get whiplash and beat the living hell out of him.

He had never insulted genjutsu after that.

* * *

Itachi allowed himself a very slight smile and just a hint of an eye-twinkle as he stood otherwise impassive in front of Shisui's apartment.

He knocked twice on the door, and when there was no answer he frowned a little, emphasized like mad with the lines on his face- the cosmetic price of insomnia since he was four and killed his first victim, and entered.

The sight made him, Itachi, the emotionless ice king of the century, gasp aloud.

Syringes coated in blood and tears lay scattered carelessly upon the floor. Baggies, some half-empty, some so stuffed they burst, some empty of the accursed powders they held within, some lying on the table, some on chairs, some spilled onto the black leather couch, some mixed in a large, filthy glass bowl with what looked like whisky and vodka, some crusted with burgundy dried blood at the base of his pasty-colored nose. More bodily fluids, chiefly sweat, blood and what looked like vinegar but smelled far too sweet to be so lay splayed in puddles on the freezing ground. A mound of joints, papers, needles and baggies was dumped on the table along with several thousand yen coated in crack. In the corner, a weird-smelling candle emitting an odor that made Itachi feel mildly drunk burnt insistently.

What was all this?

* * *

Shisui hadn't stopped at weed; even after munching down hash brownies he still didn't feel satisfied, so he snorted some coke. Of course, it made his nose bleed, but the Uchiha was too stoned by that point to care. He was still deeply out of it when Itachi entered, horror-struck for the first time after the chuunin exams. He did notice, however, when his cousin ground his very special acid candle under his heel viciously and backhanded him across the face.

"What the _**FUCK**_ do you think you're doing?!" he screamed. Yes, that's right, Uchiha Itachi _screamed_ at his idolized older cousin by three years. He had finally cracked. The mask had finally shattered.

Shisui, too stunned to utter a word, only gaped as Itachi flawlessly and easily destroyed all his ice babies. He burned. He smashed. He howled. He wailed. He shrieked with absolute rage at the sheer stupidity.

In two hours, Shisui could finally talk by this point, and every one of his drugs was burnt to ashes, all traces annihilated under the work of his volcanically furious cousin.

"Well? What did you think, huh? Did you even think in the first place? Huh? Did you? DID YOU?"

Words escaped the addict. No longer could he grasp any excuse his broken mind had thought up. They sounded half-assed at best and absolute shit at worst. With a world-weary tired look, Shisui shuddered violently and let the tears he had been struggling all his life flow like burning rivers of crimson anguish. Agonized, he twisted his tear-stained face to Itachi and choked out his last words, for Itachi wanted the Mangekyo and Shisui wanted death.

"Save me."

**-Finesse-**

* * *


End file.
